


Sleepless

by InvincibleRodent



Series: Raymond Trevelyan [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Graphic Smut, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5388395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvincibleRodent/pseuds/InvincibleRodent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>100 kink meme no. 85: Wake up In the middle of the night and have sex (then go back to sleep)</p><p>Angsty mage angsting for no real reason other than I kinda felt like it; imported from tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless

He’s not one for folk terminology, but looking at the creature with a thousand beady, bloodshot eyes, a thousand grotesquely thin, spindly legs, and a thousand gaping maws, only one word comes to Dorian’s mind- _monster._

Run, he hears the cry, run, get out, and Blackwall immediately puts himself in charge. The warden’s grip on his bicep is steel, and he yanks Dorian away from the spot where his feet had seemed to take root, forward, not looking back… Lesser demons bounce off Blackwall’s shield, scratch fruitlessly at armored shins, their claws catch in billowing robes as the Warden ushers and drags him and Sera forward, up the hill, towards the crackling, menacing safety of the rift.

One more desperate cry, this time Hawke’s name, and Dorian can hear someone screaming back, so close, as if they were screaming inside his skull… The Inquisitor’s name, his naked name cried in a broken voice, and it takes him a second to realize it’s he who’s crying out.

No.

No, no, no.

This isn’t reality, this is a trick of the Fade. Dorian can see himself struggling, straining against Blackwall’s arm around his midsection, cursing, screaming, kicking, and he’s half-carried, half-dragged to the rift like a damned child.

Nobody follows.

The terror on that beloved face as it slips from his vision burns behind his eyelids.

* * *

Dorian startles awake, and his eyes strain against familiar darkness. Outside a bell rings once, twice, thrice, and somewhere in the distance, a ram bleats.

Those blighted fear demons are clever little rascals, he has to give them that.

But ultimately, they are but the thralls of the Nightmare, pesky little flies circling a heaping pile of druffalo dung, and they’re nothing compared to a mage as experienced as he. They don’t get to him.

They  _shouldn’t_ get to him.

It’s not always the same dream, but it occurs often enough for it to grow frustrating. No, sometimes it’s someone androgynously beautiful twirling on hideous and quite frankly improbable heels in the Inquisitor’s arms, their laugh clear and pleasant ringing through the crowd, smiling faces twisting into demonic, fleshless grins as the two exchange a kiss and the skin melts off their skulls.

Sometimes it’s a pained, apologetic snarl, and a mush of words- over, enough, end, he can hardly make out the blabber, and cold dread licks at the back of his mind.

Other times it’s his own arm around a dark beauty’s waist, his own lips on hers, his own voice screaming silently in agony.

But Adamant is… by far the most common. The most vivid. The most like it was lifted straight from his memory, because in a sense, it was. Part of it, at least.

The Nightmare feeds on fear- what could it find more perversely delicious than its own cooking?

Dorian rubs a slightly trembling hand down his face in frustration, and the warm mass snuggled against his side stirs with a soft groan.

“’samatter.” Ray mumbles, tendrils of the Fade still tugging his tongue to a slow halt, and he squints sleepily at his lover. Dorian merely shakes his head in response.

“My apologies.” he whispers to the darkness. “I did not mean to wake you.”

Ray stifles a yawn against Dorian’s shoulder. “’salright.” he mutters drowsily, his free hand coming up to rub the sleep out of his eye with the heel of his palm. “Is somethin’ wrong?”

“It’s nothing to be concerned about. I was just… thinking.”

“Odd timing.” Ray grins loosely, and pushes himself onto his elbows with a grunt. “’n here I thought I did a good ‘nuff job tiring you out.”

A beckoning finger- Ray obeys, gently laying his lips across Dorian’s, and they sink into an easy kiss.

Everything is fine.

He’s fine. He’s here, sleep-warm and loose-limbed, his weight on top of Dorian’s- he’s whole, alive, willing, and his sleep-rough voice murmurs Dorian’s name with shared breath.

“Help me go back to sleep?” Dorian says finally, and drinks in the husky, affectionate chuckle he receives as reward.

“Maker, and you call me insatiable. You’re gonna suck me  _dry_.”

“Now, we both know that’s not true.” Dorian quips back, and hands gently ease his pliant legs around Ray’s hips, where they rest easy, where they feel like they belong.

_Everything is fine._

At least their bodies have always fit well together, from the very start, and it’s easy enough to play along. The warrior snakes his hands under Dorian’s shoulder blades, and drops himself barely enough to allow a fraction of his weight to be felt; a comforting pressure, familiar warmth of skin. Their chests rise and fall together, he can taste the soft sighs on his tongue- their fingers knot below the covers, and Dorian presses his heel insistently into the back of a thigh.

He’s here. Right here, in your arms, you blight-cursed moron. Look at him. Look at him, before he’d notice. Before he’d start to worry as well.

“Dorian?”

 _Venhedis._  Raymond’s hips come to a slow, halting stop.

“Yes, amatus?” Dorian replies, his face appropriately flushed, and he yanks his thoughts back into line. Right, there’s still a dick in your ass. Should be enough to take your mind off some silly nightmares.

“I’m used to you spacing out  _after_  sex, but I’ll admit to some feelings of inadequacy if you do it _during_.” There’s an apology and a smile hidden in that sentence, and Dorian forces himself to return the latter. What does one even say to that? ‘Forgive me, I am as a child and I cannot tell my dreams from reality’? ‘Do carry on, I just had to make sure you’re still alive, still here, still by my side’?

Ridiculous.

Just ridiculous.

The small kisses slide to his temples as his lover slowly begins to rock back and forth- not moving, not quite, but just enough for the pleasure to simmer softly at the base of his spine.

“You look like your mind is going a mile a minute.” Ray murmurs into the skin, each syllable punctuated by a tiny roll of his hips, and Dorian’s breath hitches when he angles himself just right. “Sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Morning.” Dorian breathes in response “I’ll tell you everything in the morning. For now, let me have my silence.”

Their release comes quietly, in unison, and the warrior eases himself out with a parting kiss before he drops his weight back onto the mattress, and drags Dorian into an embrace; the puffs of his breath flutter the ends of the mage’s mussed hair, and the sheen of sweat grows cold on their skin.

“’m gonna fix whatever it is, y’know.” he mumbles, as the Fade graciously beckons him back into his dreams. “So no making up–” a long, staccato yawn tears itself from his lungs. “–bullshit excuses.”

Dorian sinks into the warm cradle of arms that pull him to his lover’s broad chest. Yes, he always fixes it. He fixes everything; it is his job and his joy. Every problem, every difficulty is crushed under his heel, even before it would rear its ugly head… What a shame this is the one problem he cannot even hope to fix.

Dorian looses a sigh as he presses his cheek against a clavicle, and lets his eyes slide shut.

He does not go back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [a tumblr](http://www.weresquirrel.tumblr.com) , in case anyone is interested! :) Prompts and feedback are always welcome! <3


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